


Legilimens

by jjjenc



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 19:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1316977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjenc/pseuds/jjjenc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione teaches Draco how to find peace through the Legilimency Spell after the unexpected protection of his mother and the sudden death of someone close to him. But she gets more than what she bargained for when her trust is put to the test.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All rights go to JK Rowling :) I only own the plot.

 

* * *

Chapter One

* * *

**Day 1**

The wind is blowing her hair. She looks at Harry with helpless, coffee-tinted eyes. And he looks back with sympathy written all over his scarred forehead. But then she forces out a weak smile coming from her dry lips.

"I take it Ron's not coming then?" she says.

And Harry shakes his head, replying, "No."

"Right well," she continues but is uncertain of what to say next. Whatever she wanted to say disappeared; her mind was blank.

That was until Ron's voice spoke inside.  _You've gone bloody mad,_ he had said.

Upon remembering, Hermione smiles.

"Right," Harry says. His posture is slumped and awkward. "I guess this is goodbye."

"I guess it is." And Harry turns to leave, not taking a backwards glance at his best friend. Hermione then calls out, "Harry?"

He stops and looks over his shoulder at her. He is taken aback by a warmth surrounding his neck. The warmth squeezes him like chains tightening. Hermione's arms envelope around his neck. They are strong. They always have been. Her aroma loiters up his nose and he can't help but remember the first time they met on the train. Her hair had been big and bushy, her fringe was uncombed. She had been looking for Neville's toad and brief moments after, with a very poised tone, she had finally introduced herself.

Harry's flashback is tugged away as Hermione's arms slither away from his neck. A thin strand of her hair is glued to her face so she hauls it away with her nimble fingertips. "When will you be back?" she asks.

Harry shrugs his shoulders, uncertain. That question has never come to his mind. "I'm not sure. These horcruxes won't be easy to find but we'll come back for you," he promises.

Hermione nods. "Take care of Ron, Harry," she pleads and he chortles as he nods his head too. "Be careful."

"You too."

And then he leaves with a wave.

His figure becomes smaller by the second and before she knows it, he is gone. She can no longer call his name and watch him turn his head round. He was gone. And she was unclear for how long.

Hermione swivels her body to face the Manor overlooking her tiny height. It was classic looking and she bets she could date the house back to the 17th century. It daunts her knowing that she has to be staying inside of it and the fact that she didn't know how long for made it even more terrifying.

There is a sound of short heels pounding into the ground. Hermione sees a murky figure with white approaching. It stops in front of her with an intimidating look on its face. She holds her breath.

Narcissa Malfoy stands before her, hatred piercing through her eyes. "Ms Granger," she pronounces. Her voice drips with repugnance. She adds, "I hope you weren't followed."

Hermione shakes her head timidly. "No. Harry dropped me off, nobody else."

Narcissa's eyes look calculating, almost frightening. It was a trait that Draco had inherited, Hermione could just tell. "Very well," she utters and the iron gates groan open upon her arrival. "Come inside."

The Muggle-born follows her superior towards the front door of the manor as she unlocks the front door with her wand. Hermione knows she could've just turned the knob with the touch of her hands.

The door rasps open and she gradually steps inside. As she does, she feels her freedom slip away from her hands in the blink of an eye.

" _Lumos_ ," Narcissa mumbles. Her wand kindles a bright light. "My sister likes it dark and we both know what she's like when she doesn't get her way. Now, if you want to stay alive then you follow  _my_ rules. Do you understand?" she asks before halting. Her voice echoes through the walls like thunder.

Narcissa looks over her shoulder at the Mudblood.

"Y-Yes," Hermione mutters.

And then Narcissa continues as she leads Hermione up a flight of stairs and onto the first floor. "You will be staying in the attic. No questions needed. There is a lavatory, a bed and a window. That window is to be kept shut as Death Eaters come in and out of this house after sunrise."

"What happens at sun down?" Hermione asks nervously.

Narcissa crosses the elongated landing and walks into a stuffy room. There are paintings hung up of previous Malfoy's all sharing the same gene: dark clothing, peroxide colored hair, and a scowl that looks almost impossible to wipe off.

She answers in a monotone, "Bellatrix happens." All of a sudden Hermione feels a heavy cloud appear over her, soaking her with uncomfortable fear. "Sometimes she comes before sun down. But anyway, I will provide you with food but you must not make any noise. Otherwise my husband will hear you and trust me, he won't be very happy when he sees you here," she says. Her shoulders seem to be plastered into one position. They appear stiff and firm. And then she continues, "You don't perform any magic under this roof and you do not contact any of your friends or professor's at Hogwarts either. Understood?"

_No_. "Yes."

"If you happen to break any of these rules I will strip you of your wand and you will go back to Potter." She swiftly jerks her head around and scowls at the girl behind her. "Dead."

There is a frog stuck inside Hermione's throat. An uncomfortable ache that is trying to get out but can't seem to. So Hermione gulps down the frog and blinks before she nods slightly. Narcissa leads her visitor to another flight of stairs spiralling up to a locked door. She fishes out a small, metallic key and unlocks it with her hands this time. The door moans open eerily. Hermione keeps her feet pinned to the floor as she stares at the room in front of her. Narcissa looks back with a reprimanding look on her insipid face. Her eyebrows elevate as if she were waiting for Hermione to say something. But the young Witch just stands still in front of her.

"Well it's a bit obvious isn't it?" Hermione courageously says. "Locked door leading straight to the attic?"

Narcissa exhales with frustration. "There's only one key leading to this door and I keep it." Hermione is still reluctant to step inside her new room. "Believe me I'm as frightened of keeping you here as you are staying. But I want to keep my boy safe so for Salazar's sake get inside before Lucius gets home."

And with a forceful urge, Hermione's legs move her inside the ancient-looking boudoir of the Malfoy's attic. She had thought that there would be a hardwood box for her to sleep on and a small, rectangular window - too high up for her to reach - awaiting her presence. But instead, she finds a bed with unsoiled pillows and a giant window with velvet curtains that blocks the view of the ground below Malfoy Manor. On the far right she sees a truncated shelf with books stacked neatly together and beside it a wooden box with Celtic-like carvings embedded into the wood. To her left is an empty space where she meets with Narcissa's cobalt globes. For a minute, Hermione swears that she saw slits rather than orbs, piercing through her mind like a python's venom. Hermione peels her eyes away from Narcissa's quickly.

She sighs and says, "It's a little more than I expected."

Narcissa's elegantly shaped eyebrows elevate with surprise. "Well the dungeon is vacant but I'm sure you'd much prefer what I have to offer you," she says taciturnly.

"I didn't mean to –"

There is a deafening sound of a door shutting that comes from the floor below them. They both jerk their heads at the direction of the sound. Afterwards, Narcissa brushes her arm past Hermione.

"That must be Lucius," she says to herself before she averts her eyes to the younger Witch. "You keep your mouth shut and stay here."

Hermione rapidly intervenes saying, "And Draco?"

With a concerned frown she shoots her visitor a worried look. "What about him?" Narcissa barks defensively.

"Does he know I'm here?"

"No. It's best that we keep it that way, is that clear?" She shines her wand in Hermione's face and the young Witch wrinkles her nose.

"Crystal."

And before she knows it, the door shuts and Hermione is left to unpack her belongings by herself. It is going to take time for her to adjust to her new home but the best she can do is obey Narcissa's rules.

Unless she wanted to die at the hands of her husband, son or sister. She wasn't ready to give them the satisfaction of ripping her life away from her yet. Not ever.

* * *

The room is getting dark. Hermione hears a cackle that reverberates through the thin floors of the attic. By the sound she can tell that it was around sun down for the cackle had belonged to Bellatrix. And Bellatrix only comes to Malfoy Manor during sundown; according to Narcissa at least. Her fingertips faintly pull the velvet curtain ajar so that Hermione can see the moonlight beaming down on her.  _It looks so beautiful tonight_ , she thinks but then her thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Her stomach grumbles sullenly as the door moans open and Narcissa steps inside catching Hermione peeking through the curtain.

"I thought I told you to keep away from there!" she scolds quietly, setting down a plate of what looked like roast turkey on the nearest solid surface.

Narcissa hauls her visitor away from the curtain by the arm. Her nails dig into the fabric of her clothing.

"I just wanted to get an idea of what time it was," Hermione confesses anxiously.

Her superior huffs and scowls at her. "If I ever see you doing that again I will not hesitate to kill you."

"Right." Hermione nods. "I – I'm sorry I won't –"

"Keep your mouth shut and stay away from those curtains."

Then Narcissa storms out heatedly, the door slams vociferously. Hermione slowly approaches the plate. Her stomach grumbles with deprivation and sooner or later she finds herself sitting on her new bed, cutting into the roast turkey with a silver knife and fork.

* * *

**Day 2**

The dawn breaks. The cold bites down onto the skin of Hermione's face as her eyes flutter open with enervation. She is drowsy and is missing Hogwarts greatly. She even misses the petty and useless arguments she constantly had with Ron every now and again.

Groggily, she elevates from her sleeping position and drags her lifeless body out of bed and towards the door leading to the attic's bathroom. As she yawns, her fingers turn the bleak, golden knob and they move towards the tap before she switches on the shower. She strips herself bare; the arctic-like air nipping at her skin like mosquito bites. She steps inside and the water hits her skin like lightning. Electrifying, death defying but peaceful. She feels balanced. Like nothing can possibly go wrong.

But she knows somewhere inside, everything is wrong. How could she even think that everything was fine when there were people out there dying? Innocent people who weren't supposed to die. They were supposed to grow up and have a life. It was all too much for Hermione. It wasn't supposed to end like this. She was supposed to go and help Harry and Ron find the Horcruxes, not relax and worry constantly if they were doing alright. But she did.

With an exasperated sigh, she switches the tap off and brief moments later she is drying the soaking water off her body, quickly changing into something new and comfy. She hears the sound of people arguing below her. It is muffled but still clear enough for Hermione to make out what it is they are saying.

"He's done no harm to the family, Lucius," one voice says.

"No harm?" another replies. "He has put both our lives at stake Narcissa! Look at the shame he has put on the family's name too."

"He is just a boy, Lucius. Why do you have to be so compelling that he does whatever the Dark Lord tells him to?"

"Because if he doesn't we die. All of us. Don't you understand?"

"Yes I do but if I have to die to keep my family safe then so be it. Let Draco decide what he wants."

And then heavy footsteps are heard. Hermione thinks that it must be Lucius exiting since Narcissa's were light. After the bang of a door, silence loiters in the air like a smoke cloud.

The eeriness of the unknown haunts her thoughts for she is alone and confused. Amidst the impending war, she lies in the comfort of the Malfoy's mattress and can't help but close her eyes. If only she could slumber forever. No predicaments, no arguments, nothing. But perhaps nothing was too much. Too boring.

Hermione plants herself back into bed and awaits the day to pass her by like a 100m sprinter. However, there is an uncanny feeling in the depths of her stomach that keeps her mind at relentless panic. She can't help but feel so absent and alone. She blinks and finds herself unable to reopen her lids. She is tired again. Slowly but surely she feels her body become numb and her muscles start to ache vigorously. As the sun rises across the cerulean-kissed sky, Hermione's mind collapses into the state of unconsciousness. A long slumber that puts her inquires out of her head. For now.

* * *

**Day 3**

Hermione wakens to the sound of her door opening and closing. Her eyes flicker open and she sees her lunch food is staring at her. With a sigh and shiver she elevates herself from the paillasse and grabs her food; picking at the lettuce leaf falling off her sandwich. Hermione yawns loudly just as she hears footsteps pass her door. Her heart suddenly starts to race. The footsteps stop abruptly. She hears them walk back.

Panicked, she strides across her room, her bare feet imprinting a mark on the polished floorboards. Her fingers quickly fish out her wand as she whispers  _Muffliato_  under her breath. The footsteps outside are light and swift. Not too heavy to be Lucius but not too light to be Narcissa either. She holds her breath even though she knows her spell has worked. Her heart is racing faster now. What if Bellatrix were behind that door?

Her eyes are locked with the doorknob and she cannot help but feel like screaming. The knob suddenly turns but is jammed when the person behind it notices it's locked. It turns the other way.  _Jammed_. And then it starts rattling. She hears someone whisper  _Alohomora_. The door unlocks but it remains closed. Without a second thought Hermione raises her wand.

She hopes to see Harry and Ron maybe even Luna or Neville but that would never happen. Luna and Neville had no clue where she was. It was the sound of the door moaning open slightly when she knew for sure that Harry's plan had gone down the drain. His attempt at keeping her safe and hidden failed just like Ron had predicted.

"Draco what are you doing?" a firm voice says.

The door stops.

_Draco Malfoy._

The boy who let the world slip into Voldemort's hands without even trying. Hermione hates herself for ever thinking that there was good in him. She was wrong. She  _had_  been all along. Draco was a Death Eater just like his father. A coward with not even the smallest balls to stick up for himself. That's what he was. A coward. Just like his father.

"I thought I heard someone yawn inside," the other voice, which belongs to Draco, replies.

Hermione then hears Narcissa's footsteps come close. "Step aside, I'll have a look." There is shuffling and the door widens a little more. Narcissa peeks her head around. She sees Hermione and her eyes pierce into the young Witch's mind. "There's no one here," she lies.

"I know what I heard. Someone is in there!"

Narcissa closes the door and the locks bind together again. Hermione sighs with relief.

"Are you mistaking me for a liar, Draco? If there was someone in there I would tell your father. There is no one in there do you understand?"

"You never lock the attic," he argues.

"If anyone is breaking into our home it's best that we don't give them a place to hide." Hermione hears a brief pause. "Now come, you have to eat."

"I'm not hungry. Leave me alone."

"You've barely touched your food for the past few days," Narcissa says.  _It's also been a few days since Professor Dumbledore's death_ , Hermione thinks. "Please Draco."

And then footsteps leave.  _Draco's_  footsteps leave. Afterwards, Narcissa's. And then Hermione's. She leaves her position and stumbles back to bed with a reassured sigh. She almost got caught. Thank Merlin that she wasn't.

* * *

**Day 4**

It is the fourth day of her presence at Malfoy Manor. The only thing she can do is play  _Guess-Whose-Footsteps-They-Belong-To_  with her conscience. It hasn't been the most enjoyable visit she's encountered but at least she had the hope that whatever Harry was planning, it was going to work.

Morning was different for her today. There were more footsteps than usual. She had to wait for the voices to speak to completely figure out who was outside. One of them happened to belong to Wormtail. His voice was foul and raspy. It itches the back of her throat and makes her feel angry.

_How could you ever think of betraying your closest friend's reliance for someone so immoral and despairing?_

She keeps asking herself this numerous times over.

Until she heard Professor Snape's voice. That same old deep, gravelly voice that guided an unnerving quiver all over her body. She despised him for what he did to Dumbledore. A man that had trusted him. A man that had faith in him. But he betrayed his trust. He betrayed the trust of Hogwart's itself.

Hermione quietly grunts the thought away as she rolls to her left, head resting against the palm of her hand.

She had desired to be isolated countless times before but now? She hates herself for ever feeling that way.

Hermione wants nothing more now than for someone to envelope their arms around her as they whisper into her ear softly, iit's going to be alright./i She doesn't even care who it is. Ron, Fred, Seamus, Justin, Blaise, Draco.

_Draco_.

Even if she hated him for the moment, she could never hate him for the rest of her life. It was unhealthy to hold a grudge.

Even if it was Draco comforting her, one thing she knew, was that she didn't mind. Not one bit.

* * *

**Day 7**

A week finally passes. Hermione is still stuck in the attic of Malfoy Manor. She listens to the reverberations of footsteps that passes as the hour on the clock ticks by. It is endless torture. She needs sunlight and fresh air. She needs something more than just sunlight and oxygen though. She doesn't exactly know what.

Hermione erects up from her bed, raking her knotty hair with her nimble fingers. She sees a sudden light appear a meter or so away from her bed and Dobby appears through the blink of an eye. The little house-elf stumbles on his feet as he shakes his head. He looks around anxiously and when his eyes meet with Hermione's, a smile creeps on his face. He looks pleased to see her just as Hermione is pleased to see him.

"Hello Miss!" he greets as Hermione swings her legs from under the covers.

She scoffs and kneels down on the freezing floorboards. "Dobby what are you doing here?"

"Harry Potter said you would be here."

Her eyebrows elevate with concern. "Harry?" she repeats rapidly. "Is he alright?"

"Harry Potter is safe Miss."

"And Ron? What about Ron?" Her voice more firm and concerned now. "Is he alright too?"

"Master Weasley is safe with Harry Potter."

She exhales with respite. Hermione can now stop worrying for the moment.

All she needed to know was that Harry and Ron were safe and that they weren't doing anything stupid.

"Are you here to take me back?" she quickly asks.

Dobby loses her eye contact as he shifts his head to a different direction. He climbs on top of a locked chest with the word Malfoy inscribed seamlessly across the front. He mutters to himself as if he doesn't sense Hermione's existence behind him.

"Dobby is sorry Miss," he says with a repentant tone. "Harry Potter has told Dobby to give you this."

She edges closer to the house-elf and seizes, what looks like a photograph, from his skeletal fingers. She flips it over and realizes it is a photograph of Harry and Ron laughing with her.

She picks out the sadness that Harry hides from his laugh and the averseness from Ron's eyes. Then she picks out, one by one, every inch of herself that she hates the most. Every minor detail from her freckles to her knuckles. Though she can't help but feel happy because in the photograph she has never seen Harry, Ron and she look more alive.

With a wounded sigh she flips it back around and reads the words inked on the blank white space.

**Close to finding a Horcrux, hope you're doing alright.**   
**It's quiet without you, we miss you. Well Ron does more.**   
**Harry and Ron**

"Goyle just shut up and help me get this to my room."

Voices reiterate from outside. Dobby's face becomes pale with sudden panic. He quickly paces up and down the lengthy chest; his shoes make loud noises.

"Dobby stop," Hermione says as she puts a finger to her lips.

But he doesn't listen and he continues to pace.

"D'you hear that?" someone asks and Hermione is positive that the voice belongs to Draco. "It's coming from that room."

"Dobby!" Hermione scolds quietly but still, Dobby is too frightened to stop what he is doing so she snatches the house-elf from the chest. She covers his mouth firmly with her hand.

Attempting to stand up, the floorboard creaks unexpectedly so she freezes, with Dobby still in her grasp.

"There's someone in there," Draco says again.

"Didn't your mum tell you not to go in there?" Goyle asks.

"She told me no one was in there. She didn't say anything about not going in." Hermione's heart races again. She can almost feel it coming through her chest, bursting to jump out. " _Alohomora_."

The door rattles vigorously but surprisingly it remains locked and shut, constricting Draco and Goyle from getting in. It appears that Narcissa has charmed the door to remain locked for Hermione's safety.

Hermione sighs out a breath of consolation. She hears Draco attempt to unlock it again but still, he fails.

"That door is never going to open Malfoy," she overhears Goyle say.

And then Draco grunts as he boots the door pugnaciously with his foot. "What the fuck is in there?!" he yells, exasperated.

Afterwards their footsteps wander off down the stairs and when she hears the muteness of the unknown she frees Dobby from her grasp. He straightens his clothes as he hops back on the Malfoy chest.

"Dobby has never heard Master Draco yell so loud," he says and Hermione rears her eyebrows high, agreeing with him.

"I think you should go Dobby. Something bad might happen if you stay," Hermione advises and he inches closer, his hands intertwined with themselves.

She sees just how muddy his clothes are and how his fingernails are badly bit and torn.

"But what about you Miss?"

Hermione forces out a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Just go," she pleads and the house-elf obeys submissively. He nods before the sound of his clicking fingers causes Hermione to blink. When she opens her eyes again he is gone. She is by herself again.

* * *

**Day 9**

Hermione dreams.

She dreams of her parents sitting around the table of her home. She sees a huge roast chicken sitting in the center and her dad is carving his knife into its skin. Hermione smiles with content. Her mum is laughing at her dad. She figures he must've told her one of his silly jokes again. But then the dream gets enhanced. From the hallway derives Harry, a giant beam spread across his face.  _It is clean._ She notices that his face is really clean. Shaved too. Something must've happened. Usually blood or dirt is smothered all over it.

"Mrs Granger," Harry greets with a smile. His cobalt eyes gleam through his globular glasses. "It's nice to see you again."

Her mum laughs, standing up from her seat as she welcomes him with a hug. "Harry, it's nice to see you too. It's been a long time!"

Harry laughs as Hermione's dad pats her friend on the back with a hospitable grin. "Hello Harry."

"Mr Granger," Harry replies.

"Where's Ron?" her mum asks as she gestures for him to sit down.

They are interrupted when a familiar red-head emerges from the hallway.

"Here," he says brightly. His face illuminating with happiness.

"And Hermione? Where is my Hermione?"

Ron's grin is quickly smeared away by the sound of her name. Harry fiddles with his fingers before he looks over his shoulder at his best friend. Ron does not do anything. He just freezes.

"Harry, where is my daughter?" her dad asks in a demanding manner. Silence again. It pierces through Hermione's ears like a deafening screech. "What happened to her?"

"Mr Granger…" Harry starts to speak but his lips quiver with uncertainty.

"Hermione's dead," Ron finishes, his voice wavers. "Draco Malfoy killed her."

_Hermione's dead. Draco Malfoy killed her. Hermione's dead. Draco Malfoy killed her. Hermione's dead. Draco Malfoy killed her. Hermione's dead. Draco Malfoy killed her._

The words keep reverberating through her head like a never-ending nightmare. She wants to believe that she was not dead. Draco Malfoy had  _not_  killed her. She wants to scream at the top of her lungs to let her parents know that she is alive. Breathing and still in one piece with a beating heart.

Hermione was not dead. She couldn't be.

The Muggle-born gasps as she bolts open her eyes. She finds herself constrained by the neck from a hand that feels unfamiliar. She had never felt this touch, not even sensed it. But she is petrified.

Her eyes try to acquaint with their surroundings and she finds herself still sheltered inside the attic of Malfoy Manor. Except she sees Draco hovering above her. His wand to her throat whilst the other craned themselves around her neck. The same odium seams through his eyes just like the very first time they laid eyes on each other.

"Move and I kill you Mudblood," he whispers solemnly.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

"What are you doing here Granger?" Draco barks, his face boiling with anger. Hermione doesn't reply so he releases her neck from his grasp. He allows her to sit up from her bed as he backs away; careful to keep his distance from the Mudblood. His wand remains pointed at her then he shakes it firmly. "Answer me Mudblood! Did Potter send you here to spy on me?"

Hermione's eyebrows knit together. "If I wanted to spy on you Draco I wouldn't be in my pyjamas," she says.

"Then what are you doing here? Who sent you?"

"Harry did," Hermione replies. "Your mum's agreed to put me under her protection."

Draco watches her fiddle with her fingers. He asks himself whether he should kill her or not. His mother would never lie to him let alone protect a filthy Muggle-born.

"You're lying!" he shouts as he strides over to her once more. His fingers found themselves around her neck again.

"I'm not lying," she replies.

He can almost sense the fear wavering out of her eyes.

"My mother would never protect you filthy Mudblood's. She hates you!"

Hermione attempts to pry his fingers away from her but he is strong. "If you don't believe me then look for yourself."

_Does she mean the Legilimency Spell?_

He wants to believe that his own mother would not betray their beliefs. He wants to be sure that Hermione was wrong and she was lying but the frightened look on her face tells Draco something different.

"Legilimens.”

Draco is suddenly delved into the many memories and thoughts of the Mudblood's mind.

* * *

_It is dark but as soon as he thinks this a light ignites. Though it is more like a fire blazing. The first thing he sees is a hearth, the warmth radiates onto his face even though he cannot feel it. Then he hears people muttering on a couch in front of the hearth. He makes out the figures sitting on the couch are Ron and Hermione. They are watching Harry pace up and down, a certain look on his face._

_"We have to put you somewhere safe Hermione," Potter says._

_Hermione's eyebrows furrow. "What and leave you and Ron to fight Voldemort? Are you insane Harry?"_

_"He's going to kill them all and he won't stop until each and every one of you are dead," Harry explains._

_"He has a point," Ron adds. His eyes avoid the Witch's._

_She scoffs realising she wasn't going to win this argument. "Where are you going to put me? There's nowhere for me to go."_

_"I've already thought about that." Harry halts. "We need to put you somewhere where Voldemort would never expect to find you."_

_"And where's that exactly?"_

_There is a silence between the trios that sends an eerie udder all over their bodies. They did not want to hear what Harry was going to say next but they had to. For Hermione's sake._

_"Malfoy Manor."_

_Ron erects up from his seat almost immediately, a disagreeing look on his face. "Are you mad?" he barks. "You're going to leave her with the psychotic family whose son almost killed Dumbledore?!"_

_"Harry, there's no way on earth Lucius will let me stay there. Even if he did he'd kill me and have my head on a stick the minute I'm there!" Hermione insists._

_But Harry has already planned everything out. "No I know, but Narcissa might," he says. "She has a weakness." He pauses to exchange his glance from Ron to Hermione then from Hermione to Ron. "It's her family."_

_Ron scoffs. "You've gone bloody mad!"_

_T_ _he red-head wishes that Harry was having a laugh but the solemn look on his face didn't seem to look like it was having a joke._

_"_ _Trust me. I know what I'm doing."_

_And then the scene changes all so suddenly. Draco sees the house-elf, Dobby, holding Potter and Granger's hands. He knows immediately they are going to apparate somewhere. And they do. They apparate to his house, Malfoy Manor. He only notices just how colossal it really is and how timeworn it had become. Draco watches as the duo leave Dobby behind whilst they approach the iron gates that separate them from the Malfoy's._

_"Take care of Ron, Harry." He hears Hermione say. "Be careful."_

_"You too," Harry replies before he leaves with a wave. He grabs hold of Dobby's skeletal hand as he apparates them out. They disappear with the click of his fingers._

_Then and there, he sees an obscure figure with white. His mother. She speaks to Hermione then opens the iron gates upon her arrival. They are quick to get inside before the scene quickly changes again. This time, his mother is talking to Hermione in the attic. The place where she had promised that nobody was inside._

_"_ _That must be Lucius," his mother says to herself. "You keep your mouth shut and stay here."_

_But Hermione is quick to interject. "And Draco?"_

_He watches as his mother hesitates to answer politely. The look of hatred swirling in her cobalt globes like the ocean on a stormy evening. "What about him?"_

_"Does he know I'm here?" "_

_No," Narcissa answers. "It's best that we keep it that way, is that clear?"_

_"Crystal."_

* * *

Draco backs away as he delves out of her mind. The feeling of betrayal surrounds his chest. He heaves out a breath before he carefully lowers his wand. His fingers loosen around her neck and Hermione is hesitant to react as she does not know what he is thinking.

His own mother had took an agreement with Potter to protect a filthy and useless Mudblood? Why would she do that?

"Draco?" Hermione speaks, breaking the peroxide-haired Wizard out of his ponders.

His eyes glimpse up to hers like lightning. She looks frightened. She should be. Draco could kill her and nobody would even know.

"You're lying!"

He was not ready to admit that his mother had grew fond of Mudblood's. He is scared that his father might disown her and send her away somewhere far. Who would take care of him then?

Hermione responds with, "I'm not."

He looks at her and all he sees is…an abomination. Maybe if she tries to clean herself up a bit she might be a _decent_ abomination. But no. Hermione Granger was filthy. The mere thought of her name makes him shiver. He knows he will have to wash his hands because he touched her dirty and ghastly skin.Draco senses her moving closer to him so he jolts his wand back up at her face again. "Don't move." Hermione stops. She blinks numerous times before Draco hears footsteps from the floor below. He has an idea who it might be but does not want to make early assumptions. "Go home Granger before I tell my father."

"What? No you can't, are you insane? He'll give me to Voldemort and he _will_ kill me."

There is a look of nervousness and optimism seething out of her coffee-tinted orbs.

However, Draco doesn't feel her desperation. Rather, he feels the exact opposite. He loathes her and would not mind seeing her dead. But was Draco Malfoy really capable of murder? Would he really be able to feel okay after that? His guilt would rip his soul apart and it would torment him during the course of his life.

"You can save your pathetic speech later when my father comes to get you," Draco growls.

Hermione's eye twitches. He knows that he has her right where he has wanted her all this time. But now that he has, he is unsure of how to control her, what to do with her. There are so many things he could do but out of all them he didn't know which one to pick.

"No." Hermione appears as if she is about to cry. "Draco you wouldn't do that."

"Fucking watch me Granger!"

He turns on his heel heatedly in a huff. He pulls the door shut and he hears the locks bind themselves together. Draco turns and stares at the door, his fingers still wrapped around his wand. His mother's wand. The same one that he had used to open the door to the attic where the Mudblood was hiding.

He wonders for a moment. What if, by killing Granger, he would earn his father's respect once again? He had failed the Dark Lord once but he was certain he was not going to fail his father after countless times before. 

* * *

**Day 10**

Draco sits on the front porch of his Manor, eyes droopy, palm to chin and elbow to knee. The sun is out for once. It smiles down on his insipid and weary face. He has been waiting for his father's return but so far he has not showed up. He was supposed to be home last night. Now he is anxious to see him. What if he blames Draco for Granger's presence at their house? He can't risk something like that.

" _Stupefy_!" Goyle shouts.

" _Reducto_!" Blaise yells.

An illuminating light of emerald and sapphire appear before Draco but he is unfazed by this. He sits and sighs as his friends prepare for the ongoing war ahead of them. The war that he let slip out of his fingers. The war he never really wanted to happen. He just wanted to protect his family.

At that moment, the ray of colours vanish. Neither of his friends are injured so there is no need for him to be concerned.

Blaise shouts Draco over to practice and surprisingly, Draco agrees. He elevates from his sitting position before he ambles over to where Goyle was and tows out his wand, aiming it at Zabini.

Blaise looks at his friend with willingness but Draco knows that he is afraid. Not of him but of the war. He knows Blaise is terrified of dying and all Draco can do to help him is support him to overcome his fear of bereavement.

Zabini's mouth opens to shout _Reducto_ but is precipitously hit by Draco's _Sectumsempra_ that electrocutes his insides. His skin is slashed, it appears as if a werewolf had preyed on him. He cascades to the ground with a thud and his head ricochets unpredictably. He is unconscious now. Upon witnessing, Goyle erects up from his position straightaway.

Draco swears his heart stops beating for a brief moment when Blaise's body does not move. He shouts, "Blaise get up!" Hoping that he would. But he doesn't. "Shit.” Draco is apprehensive now.

He and Goyle run towards their injured friend. Draco is first to reach him but then proximately reverses when he grasps the blood pouring out of Blaise's lacerations.

What had he done?

"Is he alive?" Goyle asks.

"Don't say that Goyle of course he's alive." Draco kneels down beside him, unsure of what to do. "Aren't you Blaise?" His voice sounds reassuring. As if he knows that Blaise will reply. But his lips don't separate.

The front door swiftly opens to Narcissa and Snape nodding their head. Their conversation is inaudible and all that is heard are distinct mutters. At that moment, Narcissa spots them straightaway. "Draco?" she yells. She notices Blaise's comatose body lying on the ground as her son attempts to wake him up. After seeing this, she speedily picks up her lengthy dark dress and scampers towards the boys. "Draco what did you do?" she asks him with uneasiness in her tone.

Snape follows slowly. His face looks blank as it usually is. It also looks uninterested and wearisome. Like it always is.

Draco steps away from the body, as does Goyle. "I didn’t nothing I –"

"This isn't nothing Draco! Look at what you did to him," she scolds fishing out her wand.

"I used _his_ spell –"he points his wand to Snape "– _Sectumsempra_."

Snape slaps Draco’s wrist firmly with the back of his hand. His wand plunges to the floor. “Don’t point your wand where it does not belong Malfoy,” he scolds and Draco steps back.

"Severus," Narcissa pleads."Can you heal him?"

The raven-haired professor kneels down beside Blaise as he draws his wand out and traces it over the wounds tattooed across his body. He chants an incantation. The words escape his lips like a hymn for the missing. He repeats it a second time and then a third until the blood rushes away entirely. Draco hears Goyle sigh with relief. He too is relieved that his friend is not majorly injured.

The sun gradually sparkles down on Blaise's body as Narcissa checks his temperature. Draco looks up and just like the sun, he catches Hermione steal a look from behind the velvet curtains of his attic. She is hasty to look away when his eyes land themselves on hers. At least it would be a caution to her to go home already. Something like that could happen to her if she continued to occupy the attic.

* * *

**Day 11**

4 hours passed since Draco last opened his eyes from his restless sleep. It is now nearly nine o'clock in the morning. He makes no effort to get out of his bed as it is warm. He wants to sleep again but he can't. Something keeps him awake and he doesn't know what.

There is a knock on the door.

"Draco are you going to have breakfast?" It is his mother.Fretful as always and a little challenging at times. Draco hates that. But he appreciates the petty things she does for his welfare. "Pansy Parkinson is downstairs. She wants to talk to you."

Pansy had not crossed his mind for the past week considering they had spent the entire week before that together; entangled in her sheets at Hogwarts. Their legs dishevelled, hair unkempt and their breaths resonating within the walls of her dorm.

"Tell her to leave me alone," he says.

He thinks that she is only there to mess up his bed with him but he doesn't want to see her. Not today. Not anymore.

"She says it's important." Narcissa sounds despairing now, almost beseeching. "Draco come down please. I'm worried about you."

He bolts his eyes and murmurs as he sits up from his bed. His legs struggle to walk him to the door. Once there, he opens it grumpily. Narcissa looks at him with a frantic expression and notices the dark circles beneath his eyes look more discoloured than mauve.

"If I go down will everyone leave me alone?"

Narcissa's lip tremors but she approves anyway. Draco attends to himself towards his kitchen. The air is frostier today. Draco looks out the window and notices a diminishing haze approach. He can tell today is going to strain.

He enters the kitchen and slumps down on a chair. Pansy is glaring at him, mud blackened all across her face. It is apparent that she has not had any sleep for a while. The war outside was not doing her any righteousness either.

"What is it you want Parkinson?" he whinges.

"McGonagall wants to ask a favour." She looks weak. Yet only Draco knows that she is only weak because she misses him. Though he does not precisely feel the same way.

"What does that old hag want now?"

"She wants you to come back to Hogwarts –"

"If she thinks I'm going to help her fight, thanks but no thanks. I'm not –"

"I know," she interjects. "But we really need you right now."

Draco scoffs, he is not daunted by her words. " _They_ need me or _you_ need me?"

Pansy shakes her head cautiously although she knows he is right. "What the fuck Malfoy? I didn't come all the way here to –"

"Stop trying to deny it Parkinson. I can see right through you. You're like a fucking glass."

Pansy sulks and her eyes guise down to her feet. She is indefinite whether to leave but it was probably best not to. There was no time, other than now, to declare her feelings. She sighs and nods her head in agreement. "Alright fine. I only came here because I wanted to see you," she confesses.

Draco sighs. "Look Pansy, if you're asking for an apology you won't get one. I shagged you and then I left – yes it might've been uncalled for but I'm not going to say sorry because you wanted to shag my brains out."

"Shut up Malfoy!" Pansy is now aggravated.

"Just go home." Draco looks vexed.

"Fine." He hears a fissure in her voice but he keeps his eyes away from hers. "But don't fucking come to me when Blaise or Theo die. This war isn't about you so fucking get your head together and grow up!" She then leaves heatedly, her arm brushes past his shoulder. But then she stops and comes back. "Oh and stop treating me like a fucking object. I'm _not_ your fucking property Malfoy, get _that_ in your head too!"

* * *

**Day 12**

Another day passes. Bellatrix is in the house, guffawing as usual. It reverberates like thunder through the thin walls of the antique manor. Draco is idling on a chair, reading a book about herbs. It does not really interest him, herbs. Neither does reading but there was nothing to do. Blaise was injured, Goyle was at Hogwarts, Theo was Salazar-knows-where and Pansy was...someplace.

He hears the door burst open and the sound of her footsteps incoming is almost too easy to recognize.

"Look Cissy I kept a Mudblood's finger for you," Bellatrix muses as she throws her sister a cut finger from behind. Narcissa rolls her eyes and thrusts the finger in a plant pot. Bellatrix spots Draco and she quickly changes direction. "Draco," she hisses with appease. "Give me that book. I want to read it."

He shuts it and grudgingly hands it over to his auntie. At first she sniffs it, trying to sense something, then she throws it in the raging fire underneath the mantelpiece that belongs to the fireplace. It roars into ashes as the pages molten together like igneous potassium.

"The hell?" he barks, sitting up.

Bellatrix lowers him back down with the tips of her fingers. Her nails are uncleansed and insalubrious. "Now, now, Draco. I know Herbology isn't our strongest subject so how about I teach you some spells?" A wicked smirk rises on her lips.

Draco rolls his eyes. "I'm going to bed." He elevates up and turns his back on her, overlooking her completely. There is no time for bonding-games-with-the-Auntie. 

* * *

**Day 16**

4 days pass and Draco feels like it has been nothing but repetition. Wake up, waste time, go to sleep. He does not want to fight in the war. He does not feel obliged to. It is not his battle. It is Potter's. But he is the cradle of the war. He had let the Death Eater's invade Hogwarts and he had been the chosen one to kill Dumbledore.

But Snape being Snape did the deed for him. The memory of that night blisters in his head. It feels like it is latching itself into his brain so he won't forget how much of a failure he is. But Draco blinks the thought away and resumes his gazing out the window. He notices that everything outside is withering away.

* * *

 

**Day 18**

His hands are stained with her blood.

All over his face is her blood.

Her blood; a dense liquid that has the aroma of liquefied metals. Everyone around them both is going ballistic looking for something to cure her but all Draco sees is the melancholy swimming in her weary eyes.

She starts to close them so he blithely pats her face to keep her awake. "Crap, Pansy. Keep your eyes open –"

They open and again. She smiles at him half-heartedly. "It's funny isn't it?" she whispers and Draco shakes his head in confusion. "People only start caring when you die because they don't want to be left alone."

"Just shut up and stop talking. You're not helping yourself."

"It's quite selfish really." She smiles weakly.

Draco knows that something awful and malicious did this to her. The wound in her arm is brutal and bloody. Just like the war itself. Pansy Parkinson is the embodiment of the battle itself.

But she is right. People only really care when you die because they do not like the idea of being alone. It is alarming to him, knowing that your absence is not what people really miss. It is the sense of security that you once gave them that they actually miss.

"We can't take her back to Hogwarts, there's already too many casualties," Theo says as he wipes Pansy's wound.

She winces so Draco squeezes her hand securely.

"I'll take care of her don't worry Theo," Narcissa says handing him a glass of clear liquid that remains unknown to Draco. "How is Blaise by the way?"

"Good. He says he wants to fight already – “

"But he's so weak..."

The voices of his mother and Theo drain out of his ears. The hand that holds onto Pansy's loosens as he watches her steadily snooze. Draco finds his mother's wand. He is careful to slither it into his pocket discreetly. He has an idea. Without a backwards glance he heads upstairs to his bedroom. He can smell death but he wants to stay veiled from it. It is not the time to be thinking of such awful things.

* * *

**Day 19**

Draco chants an incantation with his mother's wand. The locks start to unbind and the door clicks open. He pushes it wider to meet Granger who is sitting by the window, peering through the velvet curtains again. The door creaks and her head quickly snaps around in terror.

She sees it is only Malfoy so she breathes out a sigh of reprieve. "What do you want?" she asks.

"You're the smartest Witch-bitch around here aren't you? Tell me what to do if someone is injured badly," Draco barks aggressively.

Hermione's eyebrows crease. "It – It depends what injury you're talking about."

"One of the Unforgivable Curses."

"Which one?"

"All of them!"

Hermione's face scrunches. He can tell that she is livid with him. "What the bloody hell do you think I am?!"

" _Cruciatus Curse_!" he shouts ignoring her query. Hermione's lips stay sealed. So he points the wand at her in a menacing fashion. "Fucking answer me now Mudblood!"

"Don't call me that!"

He steps forward. "I can call you whatever the hell I want Granger."

"You might as well just sod off Malfoy. I don't know the answer to your question anyway." Hermione turns her back on him. Obviously enraged by this as he has never been ignored before, Draco seizes her arm and forces her back against the wall. She squeals. His stable clench is hurting her. "Let go of me!"

"I know you know Granger. Don't fucking lie to me!"

Hermione tries to wrench her arm away but his grip is far too resilient.

"Even if I knew I still wouldn't help you! You're a bloody Death Eater! Voldemort's pulling you by the strings like you're his puppet and you don't even know it!"

His nose flares wildly. The bruises beneath his eyes are no longer bruises. They are violet. Just violet. Not even a lavender or a darkened violet. Just violet. He releases his grip before he storms out the room. The door slams shut stridently. He makes it clear to Hermione that he is exasperated and he is in no interest of her.

* * *

**Day 20**

_Today is the day_ , Draco thinks. He decides that today will be the day he will confront his mother and ask about the visitor in their attic. He needs answers because he has been in oblivion for the past few days. He hates not knowing what is happening around him. He hates that his mother is keeping secrets.

Draco is sitting on the confined dining table. His elbows are resting on it as his fingers repetitively pulsate against it. There is a hollow sound of heels thrashing into the hardwood floor. Draco knows his mother is approaching and when she eventually does, she squeezes his shoulder.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were with Pansy,” she says.

She is sly, vindictive and cunning but despite this, only her son knows that Narcissa is the way she is because she loves her family. She would go to extreme degrees to shelter them from harm.

His back is facing her but he knows she is making a drink. The sound of glasses banging reverberate.

Draco ultimately says, “You lied to me.”

And then the glasses stop vibrating. Narcissa stands still, her eyes blink continuously.

“What are you talking about Draco?”

“Does father know about the Mudblood you’ve been hiding in our attic?” His heart starts beating now.

Regardless of his mother’s protectiveness he knows she can turn into Bellatrix when her cords are heaved. He hates that.

Narcissa replies tenderly, “I told you already there is nobody –“

“Just answer the question!” His voice rumbles through the walls like heavy thunder.

Draco is frustrated with the endless lies his mother continues to nourish him with.

“No,” she admits.

“So it’s true then? You have a fondness for Mudblood’s now is that it?” Draco hears a teaspoon fall to the floor.

Heels start to exit the way they entered so Draco flicks his wand and the door shuts by his command. Narcissa steps back and faces her son with an irate expression.

“You _dare_ shut the door on me!” she suddenly bellows.“I am your mother!”

The Wizard’s heart is beating faster. He can suddenly feel the rage of his mother entrench itself into his skin. It does not feel right.

“A mother doesn’t betray her family!” Draco mounts up from his seat. The chair legs scratch at the hardwood floor and the sound penetrates their eardrums. “You’re a fucking blood traitor!”

Narcissa bangs her fists on the table furiously. The apple sitting on the fruit bowl rolls away and plummets to the floor. Draco wishes the apple was him. He wishes he could just roll away and wait for himself to wither to his death. He hates living.

“I’m doing this to protect you Draco! Do you think I honestly want that filthy thing in my house? I don’t! And I’m sorry that I lied to you.” Her voice is waning now. It starts to crack so she puts a hand to her mouth to stop herself from crying. “Don’t you understand? I am trying to keep you safe from the Dark Lord!”

Outside, the sun is starting to set. There is a portentous feeling in the pit of the Wizard’s stomach. He had never heard his mother say those words. Not ever. He does not want to believe that what she said was true, that she meant it. But he knows she did.

There is a sound of a door banging shut and shuffling that interjects Draco from his thoughts. He can hear giggling and so can Narcissa.

“Cissy come, I have good news.” The voice belongs to her sister, Bella. “That Zabini boy Draco is so worried about is awake.”

_Blaise_?

There is a colossal weight lifting off of his shoulders. To hear Blaise’s name drip from Bellatrix’s lips pacified him a little, though it shouldn’t, bearing in mind it was Bellatrix Lestrange for Salazar’s sake. But she had said that he was alright and that somehow alleviated a little rigidity from Draco’s shoulders. Nonetheless, it still did not change the fact that he was still mad at his mother for lying to him.

He wants to say something but he knows he should not.

Narcissa sighs with hindrance. “Just get out of my face Draco. I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

So Draco leaves making sure to crash the door as he departures. The bang pulsates through the floor of the kitchen and the apple that rolled away, bounces to the vibrations. 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try something new. :) This story will be tragic - I guess you could say a 'tragic love-story' - but I wanted to focus more on writing about struggling, of pain, and of suffering but also of bonds and family and how strange some bonds can be. I just really wanted to explore that. I also want to explore different characters like Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Narcissa, Goyle, Seamus and other characters of course. So I really hope you like this story.


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